A Bird in a Gilded Cage
by MelonMochi
Summary: A new frenzied demon species appears and suddenly the Vatican is gathering anyone with the slightest trace of demon blood in their lineage, even humans. After being violently apprehended, Rin is deported to a research facility called Elysium; where he promptly loses all his memories. AU / Contains OCs
1. Chapter 1: Blue Dawn

**Author's Note:** I think there's a rule somewhere that says not to start a fanfic with only OCs, but rules were meant to be broken, yeah? Unfortunately, before we can get to the part where Rin is stuck in Elysium without his memories, I have to explain _why_ he is going to Elysium. And what better way to do that then showing instead of telling?

So. This first chapter contains nothing but generic, unimportant characters who help me set up the setting for the entire story. I realize this may dissuade some people from reading, but that's ok – if you're not interested, you're not interested.

I wrote this to have a sort of "zombie apocalypse" feel to it and I think I did ok all things considered. If you notice any errors, please let me know. I'm not a very observant person lol.

 **Blue Exorcist belongs to Katou Kazue and Co.  
** **The plot and original characters belongs to some loser living in their mother's basement.**

* * *

 _if you took away **everything  
**_ _that made a man **human  
**_ _except for his **memories  
**_ _would he_ _ **still be human**_ _?_

* * *

 **BLUE DAWN  
She was supposed to be** halfway across the state by now. She was supposed to be on the highway, racing away from her previous life, her long, blonde hair whipping wildly behind her, not a care in the world. But, in her haste to escape, she had forgotten to check the Harley's tank. Now, she was stuck at a shitty motel in the middle of nowhere.

Skye cursed loudly and kicked the motorbike out of frustration. She immediately regretted it, barely able to catch the handles before it toppled onto its side. She steadied it on its kickstand, and then slumped against a concrete pole behind her, staring up at the empty, night sky.

She had already knocked on each of her neighbor's doors, hoping to find someone who had a bit of gas they could part with, just enough so she could make it to the next gas station, but, oddly, no one had answered. The only person she had yet to ask was the guy at the front desk. But, he was a creep—he had eyed her body up and down repeatedly as she tried to request a room. She decided going back to him would be a last resort. There was not a chance in hell she would call her mother to come pick her up—her overprotective, Catholic parents were the exact reason she was running away.

That only left Dalton, who was patiently waiting for her in Arizona with one of those old camping trailers; their 'new life', he called it. It was going to be a fantastic summer—just the two of them, with nothing but the open road and endless opportunities before them.

She smiled wistfully, the thought of his dark, tousled hair bathed in early morning sunshine as she woke to find him cuddled against her in their little bed. Moths danced beneath the streetlight above her, and, for a moment, she lost herself in their dazzling movements.

Of course, she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon if she just daydreamed and stared at insects.

Skye pulled out her iPhone and tapped the button to wake it. The tiny device didn't respond. She hissed in a sharp, annoyed breath and tried again. Nothing.

"Oh, come _on_!" Not only was she stranded at a crappy motel, but her phone's battery had completely died. She dug the heel of her hands into her eyes until they hurt, swallowing a scream. This was so unfair—this was the first time she had been able to escape the iron grasp of her family and _everything_ was going so wrong.

She took a deep breath to calm herself. "It's okay," she mumbled aloud. All she had to do was ask that creep at the front desk for change, then she could use the pay phone and call Dalton to come get her. Easy.

Skye stood, brushing invisible dust from her sleek, leather pants. Her skin crawled at the thought of being alone with someone so…sleazy, but she didn't have much of a choice—might as well get this over with as quickly as possible so she could get some sleep. She gathered her courage and made her way to the front of the motel, head held high.

She opened the door a crack, poked her head in, and found the lobby empty. The lamp on the counter was still on, and a shitty oldies song was blaring from a radio she couldn't see, so she assumed he was still around. Maybe sleeping in the back? There was a door off to the side that was slightly ajar, but no light came from inside. Skye rang the bell on the counter and waited.

Five minutes passed before her impatience got the best of her. "Wake up, you old fuck!" She kicked the side door open. Inside was a tiny, messy bedroom with a cot and an inappropriate calendar of a young woman. The man was nowhere to be seen. "Hello?" She stepped back into the lobby and strained her ears, listening for a sound—footsteps, a voice, anything.

It was completely silent.

"What the hell is going on?" Was this some kind of prank? Where was everyone?

Skye caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned in time to see a black figure walk in front of the window. Excited, she rushed out the door. "Hey, wait!"

The figure was taller than her by at least a foot and wore all black: thin, black sweatshirt, dark, baggy jeans, black boots, even his hair was black. Skye began to feel increasingly uncomfortable as the seconds passed in silence. She stepped back to the safety of the lobby and reached for the door, just in case.

"Um… H-hello?"

He turned to face her, and it was only then that she noticed thick horns jutting from his forehead. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly, blue luster, as if some sort of fire had been lit inside them, and his fingers ended in unnaturally sharp claws. At first, she thought it was some kind of costume, or a clever illusion. But then, he roared, a monstrous, deep sound accompanied by a strange rattle, and she saw he had jagged, razor-like teeth. The sound ended in a bark, like…like he was summoning others of his kind to their location. Realization slammed into her and her breath caught in her throat. This _thing_ wasn't a joke—it wasn't a human in a costume, it was something _pretending to be human_.

She managed a scream and ran back into the lobby, locking it before he could reach the doorknob. But the door was made of wood, and he bashed through it using his massive horns, like a bull. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!" She scrambled over the counter and burst out the back door.

 _Where do I go? Where do I go!?_

Her left was blocked by a chain link fence, so she darted right. She could hear his heavy steps pounding behind her as she sprinted down the alley. Tears slipped down her face and her thoughts went to her poor mother, sitting by the phone late at night, worried to death that her only daughter had taken her father's Harley and gone off somewhere.

Why did she ever leave? If she survived this night, she promised herself she would immediately return home, hug both her parents, and never let go.

Skye toppled a barrel filled with trash as she passed it, hoping it would slow her attacker down. He ran right over it without a second thought, crushing it under his foot like a dried leaf. There was nothing she could do but run. It was futile; he was faster than her, stronger than her, and she knew eventually he would catch her. What he would do once he did…well, she didn't want to know.

She turned a sharp corner and slowed to a trot, her heart thundering in her ears, her lungs burning, her tears blurring her vision. She couldn't go any further; a brick wall blocked her path. Skye whirled around to find her pursuer joined by two others, the three almost identical in the dim moonlight. She pressed herself against the wall as the first monster crept forward. Her hand groped helplessly for something to use as a weapon.

As panicked as she was, her mind still tried to make sense out of the creatures in front of her. Were they zombies? No, too fast, and they didn't seem like they were dead. Werewolves? No, those had more hair, and besides, it wasn't a full moon. Vampires? Maybe, they did have sharp teeth and pale skin. Aliens? Could be, she'd never seen anything like them before in any movie or game.

Her hand grabbed a piece of rusted rebar, and the scratchy texture on her skin threw her into action. She charged forward and swung the pole like a bat, hitting the beast in the side of the temple. He staggered and the other two were startled by her sudden movement, giving her a brief chance to escape.

Skye ran back the way she came, her muscles screaming from exhaustion, but she didn't stop. _Have to get away!_ She dashed around corners and jumped over the crushed barrel, desperate for a place to hide. She slipped into an alley that led to the parking lot of the motel.

And skidded to a complete stop.

She had found the creep from the front desk.

He was on his back, eyes blankly staring up, mouth open at a unnatural angle. Six monsters crowded over him, two of them dining on his innards while the others licked their lips and waited for their turn. She let out a horrified squeak and quickly covered her mouth.

Too late.

Their heads snapped up to her, eyes glowing a vibrant blue. She took a small step back as three of the things crept forward, their expressions hungry and animalistic. Skye turned to run back into the lobby, but found that her path was blocked by the other three that had been chasing her.

They didn't wait this time and latched onto her, one of them sinking its teeth into the soft flesh of her neck. Skye let out a piercing scream as she was knocked back, but it was quickly silenced. Long, furry tails wagged happily as the group divided up her body and ripped her warm, supple flesh from her bones.

 **. . .**

Father Liam strode calmly through the predawn fog, collar of his exorcist uniform propped up to protect his throat from the relentless wind. His breath misted in the air before him.

One week. It had been almost seven days since the first known attack and already Satan's growing army had commandeered most of California. It was like someone had flipped a switch; suddenly random civilians were being possessed for no particular reason, turning into these starved, violent beasts. And the more people they attacked, the more demons woke to join the fight. It was like a slow spreading virus, and would only increase in speed as time went on.

No one knew exactly how it was happening, and those who had ventured to the heavily populated state before him had yet to report back.

The Vatican issued an emergency message as soon as news reached them: all available exorcists were to make their way to San Francisco and attempt to cull the growing infestation. Liam was visiting family in London when he heard and wasn't able to make it back to his home in Wales. Instead, he was apprehended at the train station and shoved onto a private jet that flew him, well, here.

In spite of his confident outward demeanor, Liam struggled to convince himself he wasn't nervous, but the sight of so many American soldiers clad in full body armor was less than reassuring. He sighed through his nose—they had no idea what they were up against; as far as they were concerned, they were fighting a viral outbreak, a biochemical weapon unleashed by some foreign terrorist group. They couldn't possibly know how useless their automatic guns and ballistic armor would be.

He cocked his shotgun and hooked it through its holster on his back. One of the soldiers eyed him suspiciously—it wasn't everyday you saw a priest with a large firearm and grenades strapped to his belt.

"Ready, Father? We need to get moving."

He wrapped rosary beads around his right hand and kissed them for luck. "…Ready." Better not keep Satan's army waiting.

They filed into the APC, joining another small team of kids no older than twenty, (the Vatican had 'promoted' them due to a stark decrease in exorcists.) Apprehension and dread hung thick in the air around them, and seemed to swallow Liam as he sat down. No one spoke—there wasn't anything appropriate to talk about anyway—and even the trained military men kept their eyes locked to their feet.

The engine roared to life, and soon they were rolling to their destination a few miles south of the airport. As the only priest and certified exorcist there, Liam felt obliged to say something to lighten the mood.

He cleared his throat loudly. "Hell of a way to start a weekend, huh?"

"Do you know what we're dealing with, Father?" The question took him by surprise. "Is it zombies?"

He managed a small laugh. "No, son, it's not zombies." The media liked to exaggerate these things for ratings, but all it did was cause more panic and confusion. The Vatican planned to silence them within the next few days.

"Vampires?"

"It's not vampires," one of the other soldiers quickly responded. "If they were vampires, they'd burn up in the sun."

"The ones in _Twilight_ didn't burn."

"They're demons," Liam finally answered. Someone let out a rude, sarcastic snort. "I assume they've been planning this for a while."

" _Demons_? That's almost as ridiculous as vampires."

"It makes sense. Why else would they have us escort a group of exorcists?" Liam glanced at the small group of exwires beside him. They were all unnaturally quiet, doing their best to ignore the conversation. He couldn't blame them.

"Shit…"

"Is this the apocalypse?"

"Listen," he turned back to the soldiers, his voice tense. "It doesn't matter what they are—zombies, vampires, demons, aliens, whatever—what matters is that they're killing innocent people, and _we're_ going to stop them."

The APC was eerily silent for a long while, the only sound the treading of uneven ground as the vehicle was forced to maneuver around abandoned cars.

"Father… Is God going to save us?" He looked up to meet the terrified gaze of one of the younger soldiers.

"I don't know," he said carefully. "But…humans are capable of the impossible if we work together. We might not need God to help us."

"…Do you believe in God, Father?"

Did he? After everything he'd been through? After losing his wife and unborn child to the monsters God was supposed to protect them from? He ran a shaky hand through his short, black hair.

"Father?" He didn't respond, and the mood in the APC grew darker.

Liam sighed heavily—so much for trying to make everyone more confident.

Their ride suddenly swerved to a stop. "Contact!" The soldiers were the first to react, readying their weapons and quickly exiting the APC. Liam was next, and froze at the sight that awaited him.

It was like something out of a movie: one side of the highway was congested by abandoned vehicles, worthless belongings were strewn about on the side of the road, and the city in front of him was completely dark. He could see broken windows from looters, dark patches where fires had been carelessly lit, and one of the buildings had a large sign on the roof that read 'help x14' in bold letters. The worst part was the silence—no people, no sirens, no helicopters, no birds; it was so quiet Liam feared the others would hear his heart pounding in his chest.

"Father!" The popping of a gun instantly reminded him why he was there. "Wake the fuck up!"

The spray of bullets was enough to stun the demon, but only briefly. It shook its head to clear its vision, and then continued to charge at Liam. Reacting quickly, he pulled the pin on one of his grenades. Holy water fizzed and exploded around him just as the demon came within reach. The force of it knocked both of them back.

Liam scrambled to his feet and equipped his shotgun. The holy water in his grenades was potent enough to burn demonic flesh, so he shouldn't have to worry about…

He watched with unveiled horror as it stood, blowing water out of its nose. It faced him, tail wagging eagerly, and tilted its head, carefully eyeing the shotgun in his hands. The demon was moving cautiously now, not wanting to get sprayed with water again. Aside from a stuffy nose, it had no visible injuries.

That wasn't possible. No demon this small had _ever_ survived a blast from his grenades, and even the larger ones were _always_ severely crippled from the holy water.

So how…?

It barked and then roared, overlapping scales on its tail lifting and making a rattling sound. Almost immediately, the exwire to Liam's left let out a terrible scream and dropped to his knees, head clutched in his hands. Ribbed horns erupted from inside his skull, scattering droplets of blood everywhere. A tail emerged from his clothes and two massive, muscular arms ripped themselves free of the flesh on his back, poised over his shoulders like scorpion tails. He tossed his head back and roared, and a rattling sound similar to the first demon came from the tiny scales on his new wrists.

What was going on? This poor boy who had been utterly human a moment ago had just _turned into a demon_! How could something possess him so quickly?

Liam aimed his gun, but couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. The exwire's face was unchanged, save for the infamous, blue fire that glowed in his eyes.

A nearby soldier went down in a spray of blood, and another was attacked as a demon sprang out of its hiding place. He fired at one of the monsters devouring his comrade, but it continued eating, oblivious to any damage caused by the silver bullet. More of them began to emerge from the city, eager for the promise of food. It was all happening too fast, and before he knew it, Liam had dropped his shotgun and was running.

As his feet pounded against the hard soil, his mind attempted to unravel the mystery of the exwire's abrupt transformation. The only demon powerful enough to possess and transform a human that quickly and with such drastic results was Satan. But even the lord of demons couldn't possibly be possessing _that_ many humans at once. Something else had to be taking place. But what? What was the one thing all these people had in common?

 _Demon blood_. According to the files Liam had reviewed on his flight over, that exwire was the only one in their group to be biologically related to a half-breed. Which meant...

Belatedly, he realized Satan wasn't sending his demons into Assiah to possess humans; rather, he was creating _another_ army here in Assiah using humans with demon blood as his soldiers. And how many families had ancestors who unknowingly fornicated with demons? How many people had the faintest trace of demon blood in them and didn't even know? _Millions_. Probably more than half the human race was susceptible.

Liam _had_ to get to civilization. He _had_ to tell someone, to alert the Vatican.

Tightening his grip on his rosary beads, he scrambled up a steep hill overlooking the highway. He paused to catch his breath and watched as demons began to emerge from their nighttime hiding places. First there were twenty, then thirty, then fifty, and then he lost count. Each beast had a pair of vibrant, blue eyes that glowed ominously in the early morning light. He pressed his fingers together and tried to recite a prayer, but the words escaped him.

"God have mercy…"

 **. . .**

The council was arguing loudly, as they always did, trying to convince the two currently present members of the Grigori to rule in their favor. _Do this. No, do_ this _. No, don't do_ that _,_ this _is a much more intelligent decision!_ It was enough to drive a man insane. But Dr. Demetri Rascalov found enjoyment in watching these pillars of society fight amongst each other like children. Sometimes they would get so angry their faces would turn red—it was better than television. He sipped his coffee slowly, enthralled by the sounds of bitter, human arguing.

"We should round up all the half-breeds and execute them!"

"What!? You can't just kill them!"

"It's a waste of resources! What if this is only confined to North America?"

"There have been demon sightings in Africa as well!"

"We should use them to test new chemicals!"

"And how do you suppose we keep them under control? We barely have enough exorcists as is!"

"Alright, enough!" Capser slammed her hands on the table and stood, immediately drawing the attention of the council. "This has gotten out of hand," she continued, calmer. "What do we know about the infestation so far?"

"Well, it's not really an _infestation_ —"

She glared, silencing the young man who dared to correct her. "What do we know so far?" her voice was hard and annoyed.

"Anyone with the slightest trace of demon blood in them is transformed. They use vibrations—similar to a rattlesnake—to activate receptors in the brains of nearby targets. These receptors then force the host's demon blood to surface, causing the change. Once a transformation has begun, it can't be stopped."

"Can the receptors be removed?"

"Not without killing the host."

"Damn." She ground her teeth in frustration. "What else?"

"The transformed demons are immune to all our modern technology, most likely due to their human origins. They're also unaffected by fire or heat, though we're not sure why yet."

"I heard they don't like electricity."

Capser turned to the woman who spoke. "Where did you hear that from?"

She shrugged. "They interviewed someone on the news who managed to kill one. He said he made a trap with a generator and exposed wires. Fried the thing to a crisp…apparently."

"We should take all second-hand information with a grain of salt until we can test it for ourselves."

"Agreed. Anything else?" Capser sat back down, pleased that their discussion was finally going somewhere.

No one spoke.

Feeling her anger rising again, she turned to the man sipping coffee at her side, hoping he would be able to shed some light on the situation. "You've been awfully quiet, doctor. What do you think?"

"I think I have an idea that you will _all_ enjoy." Demetri placed his mug down and looked up, the simplest of smiles animating his dark face. "It's called ' _Elysium_ '."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Taa-Daa! Just like the Walking Dead except with zombie-snake-demons, right? N-no? Oh, ok...

So as you've probably noticed, the author's note at the end of each chapter is going to be stupidly long because I like to type, so if you're not interested in reading technical notes about boring Elysium-related stuff, feel free to stop here!

Now then. Most of the things in the story I've left up to reader interpretation. For example, I do not go into detail about how demons spend their free time in Elysium nor do I describe how humans survive in cities overrun with demons (though I might do a short story about the latter after this is done.) You're free to fill in the blanks however you'd like!

But there is some technical information about the Elysium universe that I would like to describe in greater detail in a section at the end of each chapter. If you have any questions or are confused about something or just want more info, please let me know in a review and I'll be sure to address it at the end of the next chapter.

To start us off, I would like to go into more detail about this new demon species (and yes, I realize all of this is impossible in real life, but the genre is sci-fi so I think I can get away with it)

The nifty new things you get when you transform are…  
\- More strength and impenetrable hide  
\- Immunity to all exorcist weapons and mantras (along with blades and most (but not all!) bullets)  
\- A ravenous, unending hunger (transformed demons will eat literally _anything_ if they can't find meat)  
\- A cool set of interlocking scales that make more friends (more specifics on this later!)  
\- An uncontrollable rage  
\- An extreme dislike of certain emotions (anger, fear, etc) and a set of sensitive antenna to pick up on these  
\- A need to be around more of your kind (transformed demons are very social creatures and can go nuts if they don't have a family)

Oh, and in case it wasn't clear (because I'm awful at these things) Capser and Demetri are the two members of the Grigori in the last scene.

That's all for now! At the end of the next chapter I'll go into more detail about _who_ the transformation affects and the differences between transformed demons and transformed humans. Updates will be every Saturday (unless I have a migraine...) Ta!


	2. Chapter 2: A Promotion

**Author's Note:** LAST TIME in the first chapter of this shitty fic, some unimportant people DIED. What will happen to our heroes next? FIND OUT NOW, ON DRAGONBA – wait wrong fandom...

Many thanks to **FlowerFoxWings** , **SuperiorDimwit** , and **Suicide Forest** for reviewing! Any feedback is always greatly appreciated!

* * *

 **A PROMOTION  
"Marrubium vulgare has been widely** used as a remedy for respiratory ailments caused by demonic temptaint since—" A loud snore came from the front of the class, interrupting him mid-sentence. He turned away from the unfinished drawing on the chalkboard and glared at the sleeping student.

Rin's head hung slightly forward and a small line of drool trailed down his chin. He wore a pleased expression—probably dreaming about food, or defeating Satan, or saving a princess, or something equally as ridiculous. Shiemi nudged him gently in an attempt to wake him, but he was too deep in his fantasies.

Yukio took a long breath, then blew it out through his cheeks, trying to bring his rising temper under control. He turned back to the chalkboard and resumed his diagram. "Since the first century—" Another snore. Frustrated, he tightened his grip on the chalk until it snapped. "Mr. Okumura!" He closed his textbook and slammed it down on the podium, making Shiemi flinch.

Rin jumped awake at the sound. "Su-sukiyaki!" He glanced around once, as if he couldn't remember where he was, and then stared dumbly at his twin brother. "Oops. S-sorry about that..." He let out an innocent chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck.

"You only have six months until the exam," he said, his voice carrying an undercurrent of concern. "Stop goofing around and be serious for once." Yukio spoke to him not as his teacher, but as his brother—a rarity these days.

"Right!" Rin dropped his smile and picked up his book.

He let out another slow sigh and returned to their lesson. "Since the early first century, marrubium has been harvested—" He was interrupted yet again; this time by a knock at the door. " _Now_ what?" he growled, his patience hanging by a quickly fraying thread.

The knock came again, more urgent this time. Yukio swung the door open, prepared to scold Shura for disrupting his class, and was surprised to find an unfamiliar, middle-aged woman waiting for him. She wore fitted, khaki pants, thick, leather boots, a shortened version of the exorcist jacket, and her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight, high bun. Her Order badge was pinned on the left side of her collar, and just above that was a small microphone. "Are you Yukio Okumura?" That was a strange question—everyone knew who he was: the child prodigy raised by the former Paladin.

Still, he deemed it best to answer her. "Yes. How can I help—"

Before he could finish, she shoved her license in his face. "I am Emilia Belamy. I have been dispatched to take control of the curriculum here."

He barely had a chance to glimpse at her license before she pocketed it. She was an Arc Knight—the highest rank an exorcist could hold save for Paladin. That made her Shura's superior. But what was someone so important doing here? The Order has never taken an interest in True Cross Academy's lessons before. Unless...

Yukio's heart sank as he realized the _real_ reason she was here was probably for Rin. He glanced back at his brother, who was eyeing Belamy with a concerned frown. "Look, miss, uh...Emily, was it?" he spoke in a loud whisper.

She didn't respond, and simply stared at him with an expression that made her look like she had been carved from stone.

"If this is about Rin, the Grigori have—"

"I know what the Grigori have said," she snapped. "Step aside—you no longer have authority over these students."

That caught him off guard. "You _can't_ apprehend Rin until he takes the exam—"

"There isn't going to be an exam."

"W-wha...?"

She pulled something out of her pocket. "Here is a letter from the Order explaining everything. It also outlines the responsibilities for your new position, so I suggest you read it thoroughly." With one swift movement, she pressed the envelope to his chest and shoved him aside. Yukio watched with disbelief as four fully armed exorcists followed her into the classroom.

Rin was already on his feet, annoyed by the way this stranger pushed around his brother. "What's going on? Who do you think you are, lady!?"

Belamy stood in front of the class, feet parallel to her shoulders and arms folded behind her. She looked more like a military instructor than an exorcist. "I am Emilia Belamy. As of right now, I am in charge of True Cross."

"What about the clown?"

She eyed Rin carefully and her gazed flicked to the sheathed Kurikara leaning against the table at his feet. Belamy nodded once in his direction. "Take him."

Shiemi scrambled out of her seat and backed away as two of the exorcists rounded the table to where Rin stood. Yukio suddenly snapped out of his daze. "No! You can't do this!" He rushed forward, but was caught by a heavyset exorcist and held firmly in place by his wrists. "You can't! He was given six months!"

Yukio's pleas were ignored, and each exorcist took one of Rin's arms. "Let go of me!" he cried, voice rising in pitch as panic settled in. "Stop it!" He kicked and struggled to reach his sword, but Belamy had already retrieved it. She handed it over to the fourth exorcist and stood, watching as he flailed helplessly.

"Rin! What are you doing to him?"

"Who the hell did you piss off _this time_ , Okumura?"

But their shouts fell on deaf ears. The only sound Rin could hear over his labored breathing was the frantic rush of his heart. He had to get out of here. He wasn't sure exactly where he would go, but he knew there was no chance in hell he was going anywhere with these people.

Rin flailed and twisted his body roughly until one of the exorcists finally lost his grip. With his free hand, he punched the other in his abdomen, bringing him to his knees, and then landed a hard kick on the side of his head, knocking him over. He feigned to his left as the first exorcist reached out for him, and landed a swift punch straight on his nose. The man cried out in pain and stumbled back, cradling his face.

He turned to the door and found it blocked by Belamy. "I don't normally hit girls, but I'll make an exception for you." He gave her a smug grin.

Her expression didn't change.

She removed a baton from its loop on her belt and swung it as he charged. It didn't have any strength behind it, and Rin easily caught it with one hand. By the time he realized that was exactly what she wanted him to do, it was too late. She pressed a button on the handle and the stick in his hand flared to life with a bright, blue light.

Rin's muscles immediately went rigid and his body shook violently. His legs collapsed under him, but he couldn't bring himself to release his grip on the baton. A strange choking sound came from his throat and foamy saliva escaped from the corners of his mouth as he tried to scream. Belamy continued to electrocute him for at least another minute until she was certain he was unconscious. Even after she had pocketed the baton, Rin's body continued to twitch sporadically and small sparks danced across his tail and hair. The class could only watch in shocked silence.

She gestured to the two exorcists Rin had injured. "Take him. If he tries to escape again, you have my permission to use lethal force."

"Yes, ma'am." They picked him up and dragged him out of the room. The remaining two were ordered to follow, leaving Belamy alone with the students.

Yukio shoved the exorcist aside as he was released. "Where are you taking him!?" He grabbed her by the collar of her jacket. "What the hell did you do to my brother!?"

"Once everyone is seated, I will explain," she said curtly, undeterred by his ferocious behavior.

No one moved.

"...Wh-what are you going to do to Rin?" Shiemi's timid voice increased in volume as she continued. "He hasn't hurt anyone! They said he could become an exorcist if he passed the exam! He hasn't had a chance to take it yet!"

A murmur of panicked conversation erupted from the small group.

"Why is the Order going back on their word?"

"Enough."

"Where's Mephisto? Is he involved in all this?"

"Tell me you won't hurt Rin!"

"Enough!" Belamy pulled out a .500 S&W magnum and fired it at the ceiling. Yukio immediately released her and jumped back, hands protectively covering his head. Silence instantly enveloped the room. "Now that I have everyone's undivided attention," she paused and brushed plaster off her shoulder with a flick of her wrist, "I'd like to get started." She pointed at the front row of tables with her gun. "Sit."

The students obeyed without a word, nervously shuffling into their seats. All except Yukio. "I don't know who you think you are, but—"

"Mr. Okumura." She turned to him, her mouth forming a thin line as her frown deepened. "I know all about your heritage. The Grigori wanted to have both you and your brother, but I convinced them otherwise. So long as you do not show any signs of demonic behavior, you are allowed to continue your job as a first class exorcist." She stepped toward him and lowered her voice to a dangerous whisper. "Now, sit the _fuck_ down before I regret my decision."

He backed away with a scowl and slowly seated himself beside Shiemi.

Belamy returned to the front of the room and straightened her posture. "What we are about to discuss does not leave this room. Is that clear?" Everyone nodded unanimously. She tilted her head, speaking into the tiny microphone on her collar. "Bring it in." A moment later, a large, flat screen television was wheeled in on a trolley. She picked up the remote, stepped aside, and pressed play.

The TV came to life, displaying a completely white room with two people strapped tightly into industrial chairs. One of them was clearly a demon; it struggled against its restraints and snapped its teeth at someone off screen. The other person, a little more than a foot away, was frantically shouting and trying to get his hands loose; but the video had no sound, so the students only saw his wild movements.

Suddenly, overlapping scales on the demon's neck opened up like a blossoming flower and began to vibrate. The man let out a muted scream, his eyes wide with horror. Bat-like wings exploded from his back, flapping desperately against the chair. Claws replaced his fingernails, fangs shoved his teeth aside, and his mouth opened so wide his jaw disconnected from his skull.

Thirty seconds later, both chairs were occupied by demons—one covered in blood, and one still shaking its scales.

Belamy paused the video. "A new species of demon has appeared in North America," she explained coolly. "They are created from humans with miniscule traces of demon blood in them. Due to their origins, they are immune to our countermeasures—including holy water, sage, silver, and spoken mantras. The only thing that seems to affect them is electricity. They have a ravenous appetite, and will attack anything, human or animal, that is unlucky enough to stumble into their territory. They hunt together in large, family-like groups, usually numbering no fewer than fifteen." She pressed play again.

The TV now showed shaky footage of a panicked crowd in some downtown city being terrorized by these new demons. Packs worked together to separate targets from the chaos. The camera zoomed in on someone who had lost her balance and was shoved outside of the rushing crowd. Almost immediately, she was downed and ripped to pieces. The camera panned to the right, filming calmly as someone sprouted horns and latched on to the person beside him. Shiemi let out a horrified sob and, unable to watch anymore, covered her face.

Belamy turned the television off. "Four hours after that video was shot, the United States government fell to Satan's new army." The students remained quiet, now eager to hear what she had to say. "The Vatican has dispatched all available exorcists to help any surviving civilians, but none of them have reported back." She paced in front of the TV as she spoke. "In order to control the spreading infestation, the Vatican is enlisting the assistance of all pages and exwires."

"What does that mean?" Naturally, Izumo was the first to regain her composure.

"It means you have all been promoted. Congratulations—you are all exorcists." No one was happy to hear this. "From this moment on, you will no longer be taking high school classes. Instead, your lessons will focus on how to eradicate demons—both new and old."

"Hold on, I had to take out a loan to go to this school!"

She stopped in front of Bon. "If the world doesn't end before you make it to college, the Order will gladly pay for all your classes."

"How do you expect us to kill these things when _you_ don't know anything about them?" Yukio glared at her.

"This species has not been seen outside of North America. For now, your missions will be preventative in nature only."

"So you want us to kill demons before they turn into...those things?"

"Precisely."

"What does all this have to do with Rin?" Tears filled Shiemi's eyes. "He could help us!"

"Absolutely not!" Belamy's stern response made the poor girl flinch. "It's too dangerous—if Rin transforms he could wipe out all of Japan."

Yukio stood, arms trembling. "Are you going to execute him?"

She seemed to hesitate for the first time since she arrived, but quickly composed herself. "Of course not. He, along with any other known half-breeds, will be safely confined to a secret location until we can learn more. Which reminds me," she paused and met each of their gazes in turn. "If you know anyone with demon blood in them, you are _required_ to report them to me. You may do so anonymously if you wish."

"What are they going to do to him there?"

"I cannot answer that."

"Are they going to find a cure?"

"I do not know. Right now, we are just trying to learn as much about them as possible."

"But, what if—"

Belamy raised her hand to silence their questions. "I'm sorry. I do not have answers for you right now. As soon as we discover something, I will be certain to inform all of you. But, for now, the class day is over. Report back here tomorrow morning at seven for your new lessons. Dismissed." She stepped back and watched as the students slowly stood and began to gather their belongings. "Except for you, Suguro."

"H-huh?" He looked up from shoving things into his bag.

"Please remain seated." He shot his two friends a worrying glance as they left and, reluctantly, returned to his seat at the center table. Belamy seated herself at the teacher's desk and began to flip through the papers littering the top.

An awkward silence dragged out between them. "Um... Is this about my loan?"

She ignored him. "You have the highest test scores in your class—is that correct?"

"I don't know. I mean, after Kamiki I guess..."

"The Grigori has requested that the highest ranking students in each school be sent to the front lines."

Bon's stomach twisted into knots. "F-front... You mean to America?" He had always wanted an opportunity to destroy Satan, to make him pay for bringing shame to his family, but, now that it was staring him in the face, he wasn't so sure.

He tried to remember the anger he had felt toward demons as a child, hoping it would give him some confidence, but his mind was numb and his hands wouldn't stop trembling.

"You are to pack a small bag of essentials and arrive at the train station tomorrow at six. From there, you will board a private jet to a special training camp in Italy." She locked eyes with him. "That is an order. If you are not there, I will personally hunt you down and drag you to the Vatican myself. Is that clear?"

Bon raised his eyes and caught his reflection staring back at him from the dark television screen. In his mind, he could still see the man struggling in the chair, the panicked crowd running from demons, the brief look of horror before normal people were changed forever, and it scared him. "What's going to happen once I get there?"

He hoped the answer she had for him would give him something to think about, to prepare for, to distract him from his fear. But his hopes vanished when she shook her head. "I do not know. You are dismissed, Suguro." Belamy returned to the papers she was studying, her eyes black and cold and indifferent.

 **. . .**

Rin moaned in pain and eased his eyes open, the effort of such a small act almost too much for him. His vision was obscured by random, blue dots that he struggled to blink away. Gradually, they faded, and he found himself in a dark, stone cell. He couldn't see anyone else, (he could barely see beyond the iron bars), but he could hear someone shuffling in the cell next to his, trying to find a comfortable spot on the cold floor. Rin wanted to do the same, and tried futilely to move his limp body. After a few unsuccessful attempts, his limbs responded, and he could finally feel the texture of hard stone against his skin. He raised an arm to brush the bangs out of his eyes, but stopped when he heard the tinkling sounds of chains. Thick shackles had been attached to his wrists and ankles.

Rin panicked, suddenly remembering what happened before he came here. His instinct was to pull on the chains, pry himself free from the wall and try to find a way out of this dark cell, but a loud _psst!_ caught his attention.

"Don't! You'll get zapped to hell and back if you move too much!"

Belamy's baton flashed in his mind, and Rin gently placed the chain back down. "Who are you? What's going on?"

"You're not very observant, are you?" The same voice responded, and Rin realized he had a cellmate. "Exorcists are rounding up all half-breeds and normal people with demon blood in their family histories. That's why we're here."

Shock squeezed Rin so hard he couldn't breathe. Was this the end? Had the Grigori finally decided they could no longer trust him? He chuckled, a slightly hysterical sound—it's not like he would've passed the exorcist exam anyway. "It's funny," he said softly, "I always imagined myself dying in some epic battle. Not...like this."

His thoughts went to Shiro, all of his hard work, his devotion, his sacrifice—and knowing it was all for naught made him angry. Not at the exorcists, but at himself. He was so pathetic. Why did the old man bother to save him?

His newfound friend was silent for a long time, as if trying to get his thoughts in order. "They didn't say they were going to kill us, just that they would take us someplace safe."

And what exactly did 'someplace safe' mean? Chained to a wall in a cold cell in some undisclosed location?

Still, the voice's optimism was infectious. "I hope you're right. I'm not ready to die yet." _Not unless I can take Satan down with me._

A metal door slid open somewhere down the hall, flooding the room with a bright, yellow light. Rin blinked, and craned his neck to see who it was, but, instead, his eyes were immediately drawn to the unconscious figure in the cell across from him. His head hung low and jagged, dark green bangs obscured his face.

Rin could recognize that hairstyle from a mile away. "...Amaimon?"

"Surprised?" He jumped and snapped his head up. A tall man was standing at the edge of his cell, silhouetted against the light that poured in. Rin couldn't pick out any specific features, but he could tell the man had dark skin, wore a long lab coat, and had a mess of gray hair. "He put up quite a fight for someone so small." He glanced over his shoulder at the Earth King. "Amaimon was just a lucky coincidence. _You_ , however, are the real prize."

"Wh-what?"

He crouched on one knee, giving him a toothy grin that almost seemed to glow in the faint light. "You are going to become the pride of my research, Rin Okumura."

Terrified, Rin backed away until he was pressed hard against the textured stone wall behind him.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** So I know only four people can hold the position of Arc Knight at a time, but let's pretend Belamy is one of them, just like we're pretending Demetri is a Grigori member...r-right?

Ok! First, a bit about Elysium and her sisters. The Grigori has funded the creation of more than one facility to house demons, half-breeds, and humans in an attempt to stem the spread of the frenzy. However, Elysium is the _only one that does not kill people_. The others are basically execution camps – you go there, wait, and get shot by a firing squad when your number comes up. Each facility is located in a discreet part of the world and given a name relating to paradise: Elysium, Eden, Valhalla, Nirvana, Jannah, and Shangri-La to name a few. What goes on in those sister facilities is completely up to your imagination!

Now, about transformations...

You are transformed if you have the slightest amount of demon blood in you. So for example, say your great-great grandma was a half-breed, and now, four generations later, all the demon powers and weaknesses have been bred out of your family. Because your great-great grandma somehow ended up with demon blood, _you will transform_. You will transform even if you have absolutely no demon characteristics in you. Because of that one mistake a hundred years ago, you are doomed. Bye-bye you, hello zombie-snake-demon...thing...

If one of your family members transforms (brother, mom, uncle, etc) you are 100% guaranteed to have demon blood in you. Half-siblings, however, are different. If you have a half-brother, and he transforms, that does not necessarily mean that you will.

On the other hand, if you hear the rattle from a zombie-snake-demon, but _don't_ transform, you are safe! No matter what you do, you will _not_ be able to transform, even if you inject yourself with demon blood (don't do that it's bad) This means that you'll probably end up as a meal for any nearby demons. If you somehow manage to not get eaten, you'll be picked up and sent to a three-month boot camp to learn how to be an exorcist (just like Bon in this chapter.)

But wait, does that mean little demons like hobgoblins and nagas and coal tar transform? YES. All demons in Assiah that are close enough to the rattle will be transformed. However, _only transformed demons that were once human can make the sound_. In other words, full-blooded demons or demons using a human host cannot make the rattle when they transform, but half-breeds and humans with demonic ancestry can. You must have _human_ blood in you to grow the scales.

Um, to use an example from canon: Amaimon will _not_ have scales, but Rin _will_. Hopefully that makes sense.

There is only one exception to all this, but it's a spoiler so I can't tell you ahhhahahaha.

Til next time!


	3. Chapter 3: Inauguration

**Author's Note:** I was going to split this chapter in half, one part about Bon and one about Rin, but I decided against it. Mostly because I haven't been updating any of my other stories. (I'm sorry I just haven't been feeling motivated lately...)

Anyway, thanks to **The Age of Aquarius** , **chibimochi** , and **SuperiorDimwit** for your reviews!

To chibimochi: I'm so sorry Yukio doesn't have a larger role in Elysium. I tend to avoid writing characters I don't feel I can pull off properly, which is why some characters are suspiciously absent from my stories, (Mephisto is another character I don't feel I can write well, so I purposely leave him out.) I'm really sorry, but I just can't get Yukio right and I would rather not write him at all than end up ruining him. I hope everyone understands!

Happy Thanksgiving week to all my US readers!

* * *

 **INAUGURATION  
** **Three months later, after his** exorcists had been deported and Rin had been shipped off to some strange facility, Mephisto stood alone in his office, staring out the open window, watching the clouds slowly roll by. He had made himself a special cup of tea for this occasion, but he didn't drink it. Not yet. Instead, he held onto it, waiting. _He_ would be here any minute now.

Right on schedule, his office door opened and Dr. Demetri Rascalov allowed himself in, twirling a key around his index finger. Mephisto didn't move, content with watching the man's faint reflection in the window.

"These keys of yours are rather interesting, Samael." Demetri placed the iron key on his desk and slid it over to him. "I, personally, wouldn't trust them in the hands of someone as absentminded as Amaimon," he paused to make himself comfortable in one of the large, leather chairs across from his desk. "Though, I suppose even your rats need a convenient way in and out of your school, don't they? I can't imagine how _anyone_ could get past all the protection wards you've set up." There was a slight, mocking edge to his voice that didn't go unnoticed.

"Why are you here?" Mephisto's voice was calm and cordial, as always. Even Demetri's overbearing presence couldn't unnerve him. "You've already replaced all my exorcists with that witch. What more do you want? Are you here to take me prisoner?"

"No, of course not. It is not within my power to remove you from your position. Besides, that would ruin all the fun. I only wanted to return your key. But you know all this already." He sat straight and picked up a plastic figurine from Mephisto's desk, toying with it, turning it over and inspecting its tiny, painted details. "Do you know why I've named my research facility _Elysium_?"

Why did he do anything these days? "To annoy me."

Demetri laughed lightly. Mephisto cringed—he hated that sound. "Yes, that's certainly part of it."

"Don't touch my things, please."

He stood and placed the statuette back down with an audible _click_. "Paradise was always meant to be destroyed." He leaned forward on the mahogany desk, lowering his voice to a dark whisper. "And how far will the devil go to save his little slice of paradise?" He smiled viciously.

Mephisto snorted, disgusted. "The only devil is you, Demetri."

He laughed again—that awful sound. "Come now, don't be ridiculous, Samael. If I was the devil that would make me your father. And we both know how much I despise your father." He walked over to the door, placed his hand gently on the handle, and glanced over his shoulder. "Oh—and no cheating this time. I can't stand cheaters." The door shut quietly behind him.

Mephisto, enraged and embarrassed, squeezed his teacup so tightly the porcelain shattered in his hand.

 **. . .**

As he expected, the trip from the Vatican to Elysium's Research Center was awful. All of Italy's commercial flights had been grounded until further notice; so instead of a cushy, private jet, Bon was transported to his new job on a UH-60M Black Hawk. Everything seemed fine at first, but as soon as the helicopter tilted to orientate itself in the direction of Elysium, Bon had latched onto his harness for dear life and refused to let go until they had safely touched down in front of the austere building.

For a while, Bon stood back and watched the helicopter fade into the distance, taking a few deep, calming breaths to regain his composure. Once he was certain he wouldn't embarrass himself, he held his exorcist license up to the scanner and walked through the open door.

After a quick trip through a small decontamination chamber, Bon walked into an empty, industrial gray waiting area. Directly opposite to the entrance was a pair of thick glass doors leading to a large elevator. Beside that was a plain wooden door with the label 'Observation/Archive' in bold lettering. The lobby had no decorations—no posters, no adverts, it even lacked that stupid demon infogram he had seen everywhere recently—and had less than a dozen cushioned chairs arranged neatly in the center of the room. The atmosphere made Bon feel cold and alone.

Sitting in one of the chairs, his attention completely consumed by the book in his lap, was a blonde boy no older than himself. Beside him sat his meager belongings: a pile of textbooks and a single, black travel case. He turned a page and brushed a lock of his shoulder-length hair behind his ear, but the strands quickly slipped out of place. Bon didn't know much about his coworker, just that he was from some rich, French family that the Vatican adored.

With a confident stride, he walked into the room, tossed his case in one of the chairs, and sat across from the other exorcist. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "When the doc said this place was a bitch to get to, I thought he was exaggerating." He hoped that would be enough to start a conversation, maybe even make him laugh, but the exorcist didn't respond. Blue eyes flicked up to him, and an irritated crease formed in the space between his eyebrows. "Better here than the front lines, huh?"

He returned to his book and turned a page.

Bon sighed again through his nose, trying to suppress a scowl. He had dealt with plenty of assholes in his lifetime, but they always found a way to get under his skin and piss him off. But he tried to be polite, (since the two would be working together in the near future), and instead feigned interest in the lobby.

Having nothing to look at, (literally), Bon tilted his head and read the titles of the books beside the blonde: _A Student's Guide to Demonic Psychology, Advance Demonic Biology and Anatomy, an Exorcist's edition of a medical dictionary, The Devil Inside Me: A Literary Comparison of Human and Demon Society_ … They were all in English.

"You're…not an exorcist, are you?" He didn't mean to ask it aloud, but by the time he realized he had spoken, the blonde was already forming an answer.

"I am," he said calmly, eyes drifting to the pile of books. "The Vatican let me decide between field work and this."

Bon's temper flared. "Must be nice to have a choice," he spat bitterly. He knew it wasn't the boy's fault, but it still filled him with rage. Just because he had money, or had family on the council, or whatever, he got to choose where he wanted to be and what he wanted to do, if anything. Meanwhile, people like Bon had to work their asses off just for a chance to be given guard duty.

But Bon's new acquaintance didn't take too kindly to his response, (not that he really cared, of course.) He glared sharply, slammed his book shut, and crossed his arms in a stubborn, indignant manner. Neither of the two looked at each other, and an awkward, tense silence quickly filled the space between them.

A few stretched moments later, the quiet was broken by the hiss of a door opening down the hall. Footsteps echoed in the emptiness, and the doctor entered from a corridor to the left. "I'm sorry to keep you two waiting," he apologized with a warm smile. Both boys stood to shake hands with him.

Dr. Rascalov was a monster that never slept, with a thousand eyes that never missed a detail. He was known for being outlandishly intelligent, always knowing what you were going to do before you did it, and his vast understanding of science and medicine was beyond anything achievable by a normal human. Some even considered him to be a demon. Bon thought this reputation alone was daunting enough, but seeing him in person really put it into perspective.

Only thirty-four years of age, Dr. Rascalov was tall, almost as tall as Sir Pheles, with an obvious and stark contrast between his snow white hair and bronze skin. He was handsome, and obviously possessed a presence that made people turn and stare in his direction when he entered a room. But...something about him also felt dark and cold—like a shadow caused by a light falling on someone and casting a black imitation.

Dr. Rascalov made Bon nervous for reasons he couldn't fully comprehend.

"Let's see how good my memory is…" His voice trailed off and he eyed Bon carefully. "Ryuji Suguro, correct?"

He nodded. "I prefer Suguro."

"Very well." Pleased, he turned to the blonde. "And… Armand Augustine Angel?"

"Doctor, please… Just Armand Augustine. I don't really want to draw attention to myself." Bon stared at him, dumbfounded. He suddenly saw the similarities between Armand and the Paladin and wondered why he didn't notice before.

"Ah, I understand. Now then…" Dr. Rascalov stepped back and stretched his arms out in a friendly gesture. "Welcome to Elysium! We are very glad to have you both here." He pointed to their bags. "Grab your things and I'll escort you to your room."

Bon caught Armand's gaze as they turned back toward the chairs. "Sorry about earlier—I didn't know you were the Paladin's kid—"

"Nephew," he corrected curtly. "I've never met him before and he doesn't even know I exist. I would appreciate it if you didn't mention my family history again." He quickly gathered his things and turned on his heel.

Bon bit his tongue and swallowed a string of colorful words he was certain would get him into trouble. He snatched the handle of his travel case and jogged slightly to catch up. "Doctor, I noticed the facility doesn't have any windows."

Dr. Rascalov glanced over his shoulder with a playful grin. "That's because demons like to break things—especially if it makes a lot of noise."

"Like people?" Armand spoke quietly, but loud enough for the other two to hear. Bon felt his skin crawl. Humans were loud, and they did break easily under a demon's incredible strength…

"Don't be so pessimistic, Armand—it's not healthy," he said it gently, more of a suggestion than a command. Armand flashed the doctor a small, apologetic smile. "And…here we are." He stopped beside an indistinguishable door. A large, gilded 'three' was nailed to the wall above the scanner, separating the room from its neighbors. "You'll need special tags to be able to access most of the doors here," he explained, "but the chips in your exorcist licenses should work for your room and the cafeteria down the hall. Your tags should be ready by the end of the week."

"Tags? What do we need tags for?" Bon watched Armand hold his card up to the scanner. It opened with a faint _beep_. "Shouldn't our licenses be enough?"

"Patience, Suguro—you'll see."

Their room looked similar to the one Bon had shared with another student back at True Cross Academy. Two mirrored rooms were divided down the center, with a small alcove at the entrance for shoes. Each half had a bed, a desk, a mini fridge, and a closet. A thick, black curtain hung on tracks where the rooms separated, offering only the slightest bit of privacy. The spring beds had been covered with clean sheets and a quilted comforter.

Having already made his choice, Armand rushed into the right room and placed his books on the desk. Bon tossed his bag into the open closet and sat on his new bed, grateful for the short reprieve. He wanted nothing more than to fall back and take a much needed nap, but, unfortunately, Dr. Rascalov urged him to his feet.

"No time for breaks, I'm afraid." He gestured for the two to follow. "I know you both are exhausted, but there's a lot of work to be done and not enough people to do it."

With a childish groan, Bon dragged himself out of bed and down the hall behind Armand. They passed the lobby and continued down another corridor. The doctor stopped at the last door and held up the ID card attached to the collar of his lab coat. Even as tired as he was, Bon noticed Dr. Rascalov didn't use these tags he mentioned earlier.

The door opened up to a short, wide room. Two heavy-looking doors stared back at them, each with a latched window in the center for passing in food. Bon snapped awake instantly, realizing they had been brought to solitary confinement. But why were there only two cells? Was it to punish demons that misbehaved? Or to contain the ones that turned?

"What's with that look?" Bon jumped at the unfamiliar voice. "Bah, don't ya worry, lad—he's nice n' safe in there." A stout, overweight man stood up from the surveillance table and smiled brightly at them. He was old, somewhere in his late fifties, and was bald until just above his ears. Long, gray hair fell past his shoulders, pulled back into a low ponytail. A short, coarse beard covered his chin and most of his cheeks.

"Boys, this is Torean Murray, our head exorcist and your superior, Suguro. Torean, this is Ryuji Suguro and Armand Augustine." He pointed to each as he introduce them.

The man shook each of their hands in turn with an incredibly strong grip. "Just two o' ya this time?" Armand shook the pain from his hand with a grimace and cradled it against his chest. "How old are ya, lad?"

"I'm seventeen."

"And you?" He turned to Bon.

"Sixteen."

"Ain't that a shame, doc?" He shook his head in disappointment. "They get younger and younger every year."

"There's not much we can do about it," Dr. Rascalov said slowly. "We need all the help we can get."

"Yeah, yeah... It's just—"

Before any more words could be exchanged between the four, a loud banging came from behind one of the cell doors. The latch snapped off after a few more attempts, and two hands with black claws reached out to them blindly. Armand let out a surprised gasp and stumbled back against the wall behind him. Bon didn't even flinch—three months at a specialized boot camp had hardened him to the sight and sound of demons.

"Torean!" the demon hissed. "My time is over! Let me out!"

"How the hell did ya get outta them restraints?" Torean calmly walked up to the door and closed the latch with his foot. "Calm yer tits—I'll get ya out when I'm ready."

"Well, I suppose we'll leave you two to your work." Dr. Rascalov brought the room's attention back to him. "Breakfast is served at seven, Suguro—make sure you are on time. Armand, with me." Armand quickly followed the doctor out of the room, more than a little relieved to get away from the trapped demon.

"...Poor lad. He looked downright terrified."

Bon glanced at Torean and couldn't agree more. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

"No way—not a boy that pretty. The demons are gonna tear him apart."

"Uh... " Bon didn't know how to respond to that. "So...what are my main responsibilities?"

"Ah, that's right. The facility's staff split in two: us and the nerds. The 'nerds'—that's what I call 'em—are scientists researchin' that new stuff for the Vatican." Torean rested his chin on a fist as he spoke. "I don't know all the technical details, so ya hafta ask yer pretty friend to explain that part for ya. They run tests on the demons in the city below. _Your_ job is to protect 'em while they work and keep the city in order—wouldn't want frenzied demons on us before we can get results." He paused to shrug. "It's easy work, all things considered, but we're understaffed, so expect to be runnin' back n' forth a lot."

"Frenzied? Is that what they're called?" There was a clear distinction between their two enemies, but the new species of demons had yet to be named. Bon thought the term 'frenzy' described them perfectly.

"Fits pretty well, don't it?" He turned back to the cell door, the prisoner's impatient scratching echoing eerily in the brief silence between them. "...So, lad, how many times have you worked with a demon king?"

"D-demon king!?"

"Now, let's see... Where did I put those keys..." Torean patted his pockets. "Whoops! I seemed to have lost 'em!"

"What!?" The demon pounded on the door in desperation. "Torean, you monster, get me out of here!"

"Don't worry yer pretty, little, spiked head, Earth King. I'll get around to it eventually." He winked at Bon, who rolled his eyes at Torean's childishness.

 **. . .**

A dagger of light pierced his eyes as he opened his wooden door and stepped out of the confines of his home. Rin rubbed the slight pain away with his hand and glanced up at the dusty light fixtures on the cave's ceiling. The exorcists never turned them off, and the daunting difference between the darkness in his house and the bright cave made a chill run through him. Why were the lights always on?

He briefly remembered a time when the world outside became dark during nighttime, but it was just a faint memory in the back of his head. Eventually, his eyes adjusted and, like every morning, he traced his way along the cobbled path to the plaza for breakfast.

The main plaza was at the front of the village, close to the gate that separated the demons from the exorcists. Rin tried not to look at it as he waited in line with the others—the very sight of the polished silver made him anxious. Instead, he watched a few of the early residents enjoying their food on stone benches surrounding the large, three-tier fountain, all under the protective gaze of Papa Oni.

Papa Oni sat on a tall dais in the uppermost corner of the plaza. From there, he could oversee the entire plaza, and kept a close eye on the exorcists as they passed out rations, ensuring none of the demons were disrespected. He ascended to this job of his own accord, and, because of how polite and considerate he was, everyone respected him, (even the exorcists.) This earned him the title 'Papa Oni'.

Rin often wondered what his real name was.

Today, breakfast was a chunk of baked venison no larger than his fist, a roll of bread, and a thick stew with carrots, potatoes, and celery. Not all demons ate meat, and Rin found someone to trade his bread for another piece of venison. He tore the meat to bits and mixed them with his soup. It wasn't a very satisfying meal, but it would keep his hunger at bay for a while.

An hour after the exorcists had cleared the food stall, Rin sat comfortably against the chilly base of the fountain, listening to the calming sounds of trickling water. Amaimon would be back some time today and would probably want to visit the tag fights before curfew. Rin liked watching the fights too—everyone did—but they sparked some deep, instinctual excitement in him that frightened him. Amaimon told him it was the frenzy sleeping in his blood, and ever since then Rin had been too afraid to go to the tag fights alone.

While he waited, he picked up his tail and gently weaved his fingers through its coarse tuft, working out tangles and small knots. It was a demon thing, he decided—no matter how dirty the residents of Elysium got, their tails, (if they had them), were always in pristine condition.

As Rin was inspecting his work, a fight broke out.

The entire plaza of demons reacted immediately to the shouting, forming a crowd of spectators around the fighters. Rin hopped up onto the base of the fountain and stretched his neck in an attempt to get a better look. One of the fighters was a lanky, red-haired thing, with a darkening bruise on the left side of his face. His opponent was much larger, with tan skin and black horns. It was painfully obvious who would win if they continued.

The crowd cheered and encouraged the two, much to Rin's disgust. Wasn't someone going to stop them?

He jumped down and sprinted to the platform in the corner. "Papa!"

Papa Oni removed the ivory pipe from his mouth to speak. "Let them fight it out, Rin. It will solve nothing if you try to stop them." Papa, normally strict with how demons respected each other, was surprisingly lenient when it came to physical violence. Like the exorcists, he believed that fighting was a behavior ingrained in them since birth, and that trying to prevent it would only make things worse.

Rin glared defiantly. "But if they keep fighting someone is going to die!"

"It's what demons do. Leave their bickering for the exorcists."

He gritted his teeth and bit back a complaint. The humans had promised to stop fights between residents before they became too violent. But they never did—they watched from behind the gate, and only came in to clean up the mess once the fighting was over. Promises were shallow things, and everyone here knew this.

"I understand how you feel, Rin," Papa continued in response to Rin's wounded expression, "but you _can't_ protect everyone."

He clenched his fists, failing to hide the hurt his words caused him. " _I know that,_ " he whispered loudly, "but I _have_ to try."

"Rin, don't—" Papa Oni let him go reluctantly.

Rin shoved his way through the thickening crowd. Some residents were cheering, urging the fighters to shed blood, others were talking quietly, placing bets on who would win. Their arrogance, their lack of concern, their refusal to stop the fight, to prevent death—all of it made him furious.

Why wasn't anyone doing anything? Why didn't anyone care?

He broke through to the center, seeing the two fighters who were surrounded by the crowd. "Thief!" The red-head paused, his breath short and ragged, blood dripping from his nose down to his chin. "Give me back my tags!"

"You really want them?" The other jiggled a pair of tags in front of him, flashing his sharp fangs in a wide, sick grin. "Then come and get them!"

He charged forward, but his injuries made him sluggish, and the horned man expected it. He punched his smaller opponent on the bruised side of his face, knocking the poor boy off his feet, and stomped on him. Rin watched with horror as the larger man pulled on his tail, one foot on his side to keep him from squirming. The boy's agonized scream was almost completely drowned out by the crowd's cheering.

"Stop it!" Rin had seen enough. He rushed into the center, prying the tail out of the man's grasp. "Stop fighting! You'll get us all in trouble!"

He spat in Rin's face, snarling with anger. "I don't have to take orders from you!"

"Get...out of my way..." Rin whirled around, shocked to find the other fighter struggling to push himself to his feet, his left eye swollen shut. "He's right—you can't tell us what to do. Move," his command was weak. "I'm going to kill him!"

He yanked Rin aside and launched himself at his opponent. The horned man easily stopped him and snapped his arm. "No, stop!" Blindly, Rin put himself between the two again, determined to end their quarrel.

"You want to die that badly!? Fine!" The large man roared and threw a quick punch.

Rin ducked, dodging the first swing, but wasn't so lucky the second time. A fist slammed into his face and he was thrown back, his body twisting oddly as he fell. He hit the ground hard on his side and skidded to a stop, pain breaking out across his shoulder. He sat up, blinking and shaking his head. The force of the blow had only sent him a few feet away, so he was still in the lopsided ring of cheering residents.

When he regained his senses, the horned man was holding his victim up by his neck, his feet dangling just above the ground. He kicked and dug his claws into the man's wrist, but couldn't break free. His face was turning a terrifying shade of red. "Stop it—you're going to kill him!" Rin scrambled to his feet and unconsciously reached for something at his back. His hand grasped nothing but air. Stunned and confused, Rin stared blankly at his empty hand, wondering where his sword was. But then the red-head gagged and he quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. He grabbed the man's thick arm, trying desperately to loosen his grip. "Let go!"

As if responding to his growing urgency, something slowly began to emerge from its prison in the back of his mind—something he knew was deep-rooted and evil. It heated his body, tingled his skin, begging to be released. He gave in to it, letting it consume him, and was instantly engulfed in a gentle, tickling heat. The sounds of the crowd became muffled and distant, as if he had cotton shoved in his ears, and the pain in his shoulder quickly faded.

"I said _let go_!" He roared, and the fire exploded out, surrounding him in a beautiful, blue light. After a moment, he breathed in sharply, drawing the flames back into his body.

The horned man regarded him with utter shock. During the blast, he had dropped his victim to shield his eyes from the blinding light. The red-head sat motionless at his feet, his face pale, his eyes filled with horror. Rin stared back at him solemnly, unaware of how quiet the village had suddenly become.

 _Are you okay?_ He wanted to ask if the demon had been hurt, but the words wouldn't come.

"Fr...fren... _Frenzy_!" The crowd immediately erupted in a panic. Residents scattered and ran, seeking the dark safety of their homes.

Not even a minute later, Rin was alone in the plaza . A few brave, curious creatures lingered by the entrance to the village's residential circle, watching him carefully with wide, fearful eyes.

"N-no! I'm not... I was just..." He sniffed loudly, and it took him until now to realize he was crying.

"Rin." Papa Oni waved him over. "Come here."

"But... A-aren't you afraid...?"

The large demon shook his head and gesture to a cushion. "Sit." He obeyed, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the dais. The silence that followed was comforting, and Rin was finally able to control his sniffling. "You've been stressed lately. What's on your mind?" There was something in his eyes, something compassionate and sympathetic, and it forced Rin to look away from him. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"...No."

"You don't have the frenzy. Stay here for a while and relax."

Papa Oni was easy to be around, easy to open up to, like talking to an old friend. He listened quietly and offered advice or made jokes when appropriate. Many of the residents came to confide in him, or to just sit back and enjoy the incense lit at the base of his dais. Once, Rin even saw an exorcist talk to him about his family back home.

And then, before he knew it, Rin was blurting out all his thoughts. "I feel like something is missing...like something here isn't right..."

"More salt in the stew?"

He couldn't hold back a small laugh. "That would be nice." His smile quickly faded. "Papa, has life always been like this for us? Has food always tasted this bland? Has it always been this bright? I... I keep asking myself these questions every day. Something... Something in the back of my head is screaming 'no! This isn't how life is supposed to be!' But I," he paused, gathering his thoughts. "I can't remember what life was like before Elysium. I don't even know what the sky looks like. But why should I care? I'm safe here...isn't that all that matters?" He looked up at Papa Oni, voice cracking with uncontrolled emotion. "Why do I keep wondering what the sky looks like? Why do I keep thinking that food was better before? Why can't I remember?"

Papa waited patiently until Rin's sobs became small whimpers, blowing thick black smoke out his ivory pipe. He seemed to take a moment to consider something, and then said, "it's blue."

"W-what?"

"The sky is blue on clear days. Other days, it's filled with puffy, white clouds that turn gray when it rains. Sometimes, when the sun is just below the horizon, the sky looks like its on fire."

"Really?" His eyes lit up.

"Listen, Rin," Papa continued, "it's okay to want more out of this life, but don't let it consume you. Let go of the past, or you'll never be able to move forward. Don't worry about what you can't remember, focus on creating better memories _now_."

Rin was quiet for a moment, eyes distant, lost in thought. Finally, he looked up and forced a smile. "Thanks, Papa."

"Attention. Number three hundred thirty-three: report to the gate." The voice, a woman, echoed harshly from the loudspeaker by the gate. Rin paused—the chill from before was back, wiping the fake smile from his face. His chest tightened until it felt like he would be sick, and it took everything he had just to keep his composure.

He was being summoned to the White Room.

Impatient, the voice repeated her message. Rin turned and looked up at Papa Oni with naked horror. "I... I don't..."

Papa looked away, ashamed, his face clouding as he struggled to find the words to convey his thoughts. "I'm sorry, Rin."

"... _I don't want to go_." It came out in a voice so small that he wasn't sure he said it aloud.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Umm I'm not too happy about that ending part, but I don't know how else to write it (or what to put in its place) so I guess that will have to do. Hope its not too bad.

Ok time for some character ranting! We'll start with Armand. Now, before anyone accuses me of anything, yes my Armand is based on Armin Arlert from Attack on Titan (Shingeki no Kyojin). Despite what everyone says, I'm absolutely terrible at making original characters, so I use existing characters from my favorite shows/books as bases and then build on top of them. If you strip him down to his most basic characteristics, you'll get Armin! Cool, huh? See if you can guess who my other characters are!

Armand being based on Arlert doesn't have anything to do with his name. I wanted a French name that was similar to Arthur for reasons that will be explained eventually, so I picked Armand (which I believe is the French version of Herman but I can't remember)

Papa Oni will be described in detail in the next chapter. I'll leave my notes on him until then.

Demetri I created way back when in 2009 for...something. I don't remember much about his early design but I do know that he was originally a mobster. (Thinking about it now he might have been created as a GTA fan character...) He was my universal character for a while and I think I might have used him in an RP or two in some unknown corner of the Internet. I stopped using him because he has a very specific personality and (unlike my current universal, Amon) didn't fit well into some worlds.

He's...well, hard to describe. I think I'll just let the story describe him for me. But don't be fooled by him – that's one of the things he does best.

Oh, and no, he's not a demon or an angel. Then what is he? You'll find out in chapter 17 so stick around! *wink* See you next week!


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